


My Everything

by satismagic



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: M/M, PWP, Sundance festival, top!Zach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 22:40:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3226145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satismagic/pseuds/satismagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Response to a prompt from Suedescripture, inspired by Pinto sightings at Sundance 2015:</p><p>"Zaaaaaaach, I’m so fucking cold."</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Everything

_“Zaaaaaaach, I’m so fucking cold.”_

Chris looks like nothing so much as a grayscale jacket burrito on toothpicks with his chicken legs stuffed into honest-to-goodness long underwear under baggy black jeans, and he’s still freezing. His nose is actually turning red. Now that they’ve managed to stay for one serious red carpet picture and are safely outside, Zach can’t help it, he starts laughing. He feels unbearably light-headed. Outside means behind the hummus party place. An almost hidden backdoor leads to a shabby little courtyard beyond the kitchens. And from that courtyard another door will take them to a back alley, where neither paparazzi nor fans are lying in wait right now, or at least that’s what a friendly kitchen help promised them. 

“You should have dressed in something besides jeans and an almost translucent shirt then,” Zach says and crowds Chris against the wall next to the tool shed. “Don’t worry, Pine, I’ll get you warm in next to no time.”

Chris only tilts back his head, offering his mouth. When Zach couldn’t take his eyes off him last night at the party, when he barely could keep _his hands_ off Chris when they danced in the dimly lit club, instead of making an awkward joke to diffuse the sexual tension between them, Chris announced that he’s living in the moment this week, and then he kissed Zach. He never made it back to his own hotel room that night, and they can only hope that no one will notice that Chris is wearing the same shabby shirt today that he wore the day before, and that he doesn’t merely look partied out, but fucked out. Although, even if someone should notice, no one should make the correct connection. After all, no one but Chris and Zach's mother knows yet that Zach and Miles are taking a break while Miles is off to work in Europe for a couple of months.

He'd told Chris before Sundance even, torn between heartbreak and an inexplicable sense of relief, and their first hug here in Park City had been one of wordless comfort between good friends. But that mood had quickly shifted, as it often did between them... even though so far, they had never acted upon the undeniable chemistry between them.

Zach leans in and claims Chris’s lips. Those beautiful, warm, slightly chapped lips. Cocksucker lips. He’s heard that said about Chris’s lips so often over the years.

“Fuck you, Pine,” he growls against Chris’s mouth and sucks at his lower lip with bruising force. He’d always had Chris’s back, knowing that Chris had never acted upon whatever attraction he felt for other men, had always respected his decision to play it safe. Just like Chris had always accepted and supported him and his choices, before he came out and after.

“Yes, please,” Chris sighs, trying to push their groins together in spite of the bulky jackets keeping them at a chaste distance. “But maybe somewhere warmer?”

Zach’s so hard again that he feels like he’s about to burst, and the fucking jackets prevent him from even gaining enough friction so they can rub off on each other. “Yeah,” he says, breathing hard. “How about the tool shed?”

There are two pictures he can’t get out of his mind from last year. Chris with that guy in Italy. Chris with that other guy in Brazil. He’d known at a glance. And his gut reaction surprised Zach. He has never experienced such vicious, eviscerating jealousy before in his life.

“What?” Chris looks at him, his eyes wide and blazing with lust. For a moment they stare at each other. Then Chris licks his lips. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. Living in the moment. Sex in a tool shed. That’s... that’s perfect. Okay.”

“Jesus Christ, Pine.” Zach turns around and drags him to the door of the shed. The gods must be smiling upon them, because the door is unlocked, and the interior is not as disgusting as it might have been, and it is considerably warmer than outside. Zach closes the door behind them and pushes Chris against the workbench that takes up one side of the small room, his hands shaking as he starts to unwrap Chris. “Like a really late Christmas gift,” he mutters. A second later he’s got Chris’s jeans open, his underwear pushed down, and his thick cock in his hands. Chris’s dick is flushed bright red and so hard that he’s already leaking. Zach smears the translucent liquid around the head of his cock, wraps his fingers around its width and squeezes until Chris cries out softly. “Damnit, Pine.”

And Chris, as if he can read his mind, says, “I didn’t want you to be the first.”

“But you want me now.” Zach reaches around to squeeze Chris’s ass, spreading his cheeks. He wants to feel Chris shudder in his arms again, wants to feel him fall apart, wants to have him from the inside out.

Chris pushes his cock roughly against Zach’s jeans and whimpers. “Yeah, I do.”

“Turn around,” Zach commands. A strange thrill surges through him when Chris obeys instantly, leaning on the jackets he’s piled on the workbench with both hands, proffering his ass, flushed pink in the cold air of the unheated shed. He cups Chris’s ass again before he starts going through his pockets, searching for lube and condoms. Chris just waits without moving, breathing hard. When Zach has found what he’s been looking for and shoved down his own pants, he embraces Chris from behind, nestling his cock into the crack of Chris’s ass. “Still cold?”

Chris’s answer is mostly an incoherent _nrgh_ , and an urgent wriggle of his ass. Zach carefully probes his hole, nudging and teasing tenderly. No matter how desperate he wants to fuck a partner, he’d never want to hurt them by rushing this stage of the game. Especially not Chris, who’s still new at it, in spite of his Italian and Brazilian escapades. But Chris is wonderfully relaxed – he tenses only for a moment, when voices can be heard from the kitchen, demanding more hummus with red pepper. And before Chris can really start thinking about what they are doing, Zach’s pushing into his body, and Chris whimpers and jerks in Zach’s embrace as Zach miraculously gets the angle right from the start.

It’s almost perverse – in bed they fit together as well as on set, if not better. Fucking chemistry. Bromance of the century. Yeah, right. Zach leans over Chris, his mouth pressed against the juncture of his neck and shoulder, his arms sliding around his body and under his baggy shirt. He pinches one hard, dusky red nipple and revels in Chris’s choked cry of pleasure. Then he swats away Chris’s hand from his cock. “You keep us on our feet, I’ll get us off.”

Normally Zach relishes the fact that there’s no stigma attached to how each partner gets off during gay sex, but today he wants to fully own Chris’s pleasure. Chris leans forward on his arms, taking their full weight. His muscles bulge, and Zach strokes over his upper arms appreciatively. Chris is ready for Trek, but for a few pounds to make him look a little less delicate, while Zach’s painfully aware of the fact that he still has a few pounds to lose before he’ll be the perfect Spock again. Well, pounding into Pine’s sweet, sweet ass will at least take care of the calories he wasted on hummus and crackers tonight.

And then Zach can’t think anymore, because Chris clenches around him, and he feels Chris’s cock jerk in his hand, and Chris’s balls fill his other hand, so heavy and warm, and when he inhales, it’s all Armani and argan oil and _Chris_ , just Chris, and that’s just too much.

“You smell so good, so good, _so good_ ,” Zach cries out before he comes hard, so hard that his vision blacks out in red-hot waves, in the same rhythm as Chris’s cock spurting in his hands, and Chris gasping and whimpering under him.

When he can see clearly (if not straight) again, Zach turns Chris around in his arms and hugs him tightly, heedless of the mess.

They stay like that for long moments, long enough for Zach to wonder how you can be almost forty and still know nothing about life and all its miracles. But he decides to take a leaf out of Chris’s new Moleskine and just live in the moment for now, and savor this, whatever this is, however long it will last.

“Are you warm now?” Zach whispers against Chris’s lips and kisses him again, just because he can.

Chris smiles, that smile with all the crinkly rays of sunshine that lights up not just his face but his whole being.

“Yeah,” Chris says. “I’m warm now. _Really_ warm, actually. Hot, in fact. Hot for more of you. More of this. More of _us_.”

*

A few months later, they lie entwined in their temporary home in Vancouver. They got back late from filming that night, because they were working on one of the scenes that are especially important to Simon. Zach doesn’t even know why he suddenly recalls what Chris said that day during their crazy week at the Sundance festival. Maybe it’s the colorful lights from the harbor that remind him of the festive rainbow illumination of Sundance. Or maybe it’s just Chris.

“You said you didn’t want me to be your first,” Zach says, abruptly and somewhat scared of spoiling the mood. But he kind of wants to know. “Why?”

Chris groans, as if he’s almost losing the good fight against post-coital lethargy. “You have to ask me that _now_ , Quinto? Really?” But then he turns around and kisses Zach with astonishing passion. “You seriously haven’t caught on yet?”

Even in the dim light of the harbor lights, Chris’s eyes are shockingly blue. And the light’s just bright enough for Zach to see how Chris’s whole face crinkles with happiness as he adds, “Because I want you to be my last, asshole.”

**Author's Note:**

> ♥ Thank you for reading! ♥


End file.
